Road Trip

I'm sure there are people who have lovely things to say about the Red Roof Inn...Unfortunately, I'm not one of them. Last night I had the pleasure/karmic punishment from one of my past sins like coveting Nicole Kidman's wardrobe or having impure thoughts about David Boreanaz of staying in the Red Roof Inn before my morning meeting in Nashville. Now, maybe I would have had a better experience if I hadn't chosen the Red Roof Inn right next to the highway. (I also think we all know how difficult it is to book a hotel room online, especially with a limited budget and lack of familiarity with the city. I liked that internet special and proximity to the office. I knew my own laziness would come back to haunt me one day, but how could my love of bargains get me in so much trouble? It's not like I was trying to buy a Gucci off the back of a truck or anything.) And, while some people might enjoy the lull of semis moving down the interstate well into the early hours of the morning, I found it a tad nerve-racking. Then there was no Lifetime or Bravo in the cable offerings. Is a girl supposed to make it through without a "Project Runway" marathon or reruns of the "Golden Girls"? The in-motel channel kept telling me to push the "menu" button on the remote for happiness (no joke), but I'm pretty sure that for most Red Roof patrons, happiness = porn, and I wasn't up for that. When I want my Estelle Getty, nothing else will do. (Now, I'd like to go on with my story, but this is the point where my father needs to stop reading so that he won't have a heart attack. I got my sense of worry/vigilance honestly. Daddy - remember that I'm home safe now and do have a slight tendency to exaggerate. Also - seriously - stop reading.) A little bit later, there was a phone call to my room at 1:00 in the morning by someone looking for Mohammad in what I can only assume is miscommunication over a drug deal, and I think I saw a man talking to a couple of "working girls" in the parking lot. (Either that, or they were just underage and looking for a crystal meth hook up. Who can tell these days?) I'm just thankful for deadbolts.